Looking for Adventure

by Valentina Heart

  “We should run now,” he said softly as he caught his breath and flung the backpack on his back.

  We ran to the opposite side of the tower from the now cursing man until we got onto our bikes. He kept screaming “fucking tourists” and “no respect,” leaving me somewhat baffled even when I knew he’d probably figured out we were having sex. Still, it didn’t seem like such a big deal to get so upset because of it.

  That little encounter was followed by a bumpy ride down the trail. Luckily we soon escaped the man’s curses.

  “What do you think he’s so pissed about?” I asked as we approached the bottom of the hill and the incline wasn’t as bad anymore. I was curious if everyone on the island lost it that fast. The information couldn’t hurt.

  “Probably because of all that spunk I left on his bench,” Nino said through his laughter.

  I was momentarily shocked, having completely forgotten that little detail, but the laughter was contagious, and soon he had me joining him. The situation was something to be told over and over again on those fun nights when company surrounded us. God only knew if even half the people there would believe us.

  We were still laughing when we leaned our bikes next to the café because just a few minutes before, Nino had teased me about the bee again. So we sat at the table outside in full-blown hysterics and barely managed to order drinks.

  Chapter Eight

  The days melted together in the limitless amounts of sex, sea, and food. The most serious and unadventurous man on earth became the fun and laughing man of my dreams. There were no noes in Jonathan’s vocabulary, and whatever I suggested, he willingly tried out. Always ready for something new, and always with an active imagination when it came to sex.

  In just two weeks I was thoroughly fucked in every room in the house, in the woods, on the beach, in the positions I loved and had tried out before, as well as in those that were completely new or almost impossible to pull off.

  I was having the best time of my life with the man who was the nicest man alive, so why couldn’t I get rid of the worms of doubt that continuously nagged in the back of my head that somehow, all of it was just too good to be true? In the most wonderful situations, worry would start to gnaw at me until the moment when Bee, as I started calling him, reassured me that he would be there for me and that he loved me.

  He even crossed that barrier where there was no more question about the feelings he had for me. He said everything straightforwardly, with no limitations in front of others.

  There were people who minded, who turned their heads when they saw his palm at the back of my neck, or cursed at us. Some even spat before we passed, but despite it being a small settlement, it was a tourist place, and the ones who minded were limited mostly to older people.

  One guy who got out of line found himself face-to-face with the vicious lawyer that lay dormant in Jonathan. A threat of a lawsuit and his crippled body in a ditch after he lost the trial were enough to settle down the bigots and force them deep into the holes they’d crawled out of.

  Still, despite all the good between us, I sensed there was something he wasn’t telling me, something that was bad and that just might force us apart permanently. It wasn’t so much his words that were often more perfect than anything else; it was more about the look he sometimes got when we talked about the future. Something scared him about it, and I couldn’t figure out what would scare a man who wasn’t afraid of anything.

  The day was one of the hottest so far, with even the crickets toning down their song. I put the dessert into the fridge and went to join him down at the beach.

  Sunning every day made us as dark as we’d ever been. Not even the suntan lotion made a significant difference. The swimsuit line was all but gone as we’d realized just how secluded our little part of paradise was. We mostly paraded naked now, always willing and more than ready for a quickie.

  I plopped down next to him on a towel, having a hard time looking anywhere else but at his shining, slowly stiffening cock. He was covered in lotion, all oily and gorgeous, and that smile just pulled me into a kiss.

  “You all done?” he asked.

  “Yes, it will be perfect for tonight. Nicely cool,” I supplied.

  “Have I told you already how gorgeous you are?” He pushed his nose into the curve of my neck, tickling me mercilessly.

  “Many times,” I said through laughter.

  “How about how much I like your tattoo?” His tongue followed his words as his head dipped downward, and he licked the ink. It had become one of his favorite things on me.

  “Yes, but I can always hear it once more.” I stretched out on the towel to give him better access.

  “Good, because I plan on saying it a lot.” The tips of his fingers touched the soft hair on my thigh.

  “You’re just insatiable.”

  “You bet! Luckily I have you here to satisfy all my urges.” His smile was wicked until something suddenly crossed his mind, and he looked at me curiously.

  “I never asked about the tattoo. How come you chose the ladybug?” He lifted his body back up so that we were on the same level again.

  I lost the smile, but there was no reason for me not to tell him why.

  “I needed strength, and I was all alone. Actually, it’s a few things all cramped up into those two little beetles.” I paused to organize my thoughts.

  “Tell me about it,” he said as he pressed a kiss against my shoulder.

  “My father threw me out when I was nineteen after he found out I was gay in a rather embarrassing way. I was staying with friends and ex-lovers, doing anything that paid money until I managed to find a roommate and settle down. Friends were all right, but you can never impose on someone for too long without becoming a problem. No one understood where I was coming from, and I missed my parents terribly. What they did was pretty bad, but it didn’t delete the nineteen years of memories we shared. The tattoo represents change in a way, when a good boy turned bad, but it also represents the innocent me and the new stronger version. In a way, they are company that reminds me of just how bad things were and how it can all become better.”

  “You were right. It’s quite a lot of things in such a small mark. I’m glad you weren’t all alone when it was tough,” he said and pulled me into a sweaty, slippery hug.

  “God, you need a bath!” I squeaked like a girl and tried pushing him away, but he never gave up before getting a kiss, and I was more than aware of that fact.

  “Come with me into the water.” He stood suddenly, giving me a hand to stand up.

  We walked over the pebbles slowly because he still wasn’t used to the feel of them under his feet, and when we reached the water, the cold chilled my overheated skin. The sea was nothing like that first day when it had been cold enough to make your teeth rattle, but staying in the sun for so long made it seem colder than it actually was.

  We took our time walking into the surf, holding hands like newfound lovers, which we were in a way. He never left my side, always touching me under the water, kissing me above it. In a way, he seemed like more of a child than I was, and that was fine with me.

  I was getting out when he caught me around the waist, pressing his oh so thick cock against me. The water was just above my waist, and I shivered under his kisses. He turned me around, all that strength he possessed surrounding me, and as if I weighed nothing, he lifted me up until I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  “Kiss me,” he said, all wet and salty, looking at me like I was the biggest prize to be won.

  I lowered my lips and sipped the salt off his pink skin before I gave him my tongue. I expected the usual roughness, where he plunged inside me and fucked my mouth the same way he so often did with my ass, but instead I got a tender caress, where he allowed me to set the tempo that never once crossed that line of gentleness.

  Those careful kisses turned me on as much as the rough ones did; they electrified my skin and forced my cock to rise between us. I moved into his belly, holding his h
air firmly and touching the back of his neck with two of my fingers. His hands were holding my ass, cradling it gently for all those long minutes that we were kissing, never slowing, but also never speeding, just staying on that sweet edge of desire.

  I barely felt it when he slipped inside me, the constant sex forcing me to lube ahead and stretching me beautifully. He moved the same way that he kissed, slowly, teasingly, lifting me with his hands, then lowering me onto his wide, hard cock.

  It was an excruciating pleasure, with all of me wanting more but satisfied with the sensations that were already given. The water around us splashed lightly every time he thrust into me, every time I pressed forward. I felt so light, the water making me feel as if I were flying, my Bee forcing me to soar ever higher.

  The orgasm sneaked up on me like the wild wind, carrying me in one direction for so long that the simple change of it had me screaming my lungs out and squeezing the hot flesh inside me.

  Jonathan was quiet this once, only the stiffening of his muscles and the hot seed in me giving him away. The water wrinkled our skin, and we felt the cold more intensely as our bodies started to come off the high.

  He carried me to the beach, painfully dropping onto his knees until he was able to gently put me down. His head fell onto my chest while mine pressed into the pebbles beneath.

  “That was amazing,” I whispered, still trembling from the orgasm.

  I felt the drops of water sliding from his wet hair down my body, tickling all along its path, but I had no strength left to wipe it away.

  It seemed like hours had passed before we were able to use our legs again, and we dragged our bodies all the way into the house. The sun took a lot out of a man, and the sea did nothing to help. We washed away the salt and crawled into bed, too exhausted to even taste the dessert.

  * * *

  It was another Friday night with me dancing in front of the mirror, my pants low on my waist. The Black Eyed Peas looked like they were having a feeling that it was going to be a good night, and I couldn’t have agreed more.

  I jumped in place with my hands high up in the air, shaking my ass and lifting my leg onto the counter, trying to look sexy but failing miserably. If only I had a pair of my tight pants instead of the comfortable ones, I would have nailed that Fergie pose.

  Only by the end of the song did I notice my Bee standing at the door, his arms crossed over his chest and a wide smile on his face just for me. Instead of feeling embarrassed for acting silly, I ran toward him and jumped into his arms. He caught me, lifting me up so that he had my legs around his waist, and he spun me around for those last few notes of the song.

  “I didn’t think this would be your type of music,” he said, laughing.

  “It isn’t usually, but I listen to a little bit of everything, and I love this song!” I lifted my arm from his shoulder and flung it high up in the air.

  “God, I love you,” he said through a smile just before he kissed me.

  “I love you too, Bee,” I said as our lips parted.

  “Will you ever stop calling me that?” He acted all annoyed, but I knew he loved the fact that I’d found him a nickname.

  “Nope.”

  “Yes! This is my song!” he said as “Born to Be Wild” came on, and he spun me around once more.

  “You only heard it for the first time when you met me,” I pointed out.

  “Like that makes any difference. Come on, sing it with me!”

  And just like that we were circling the room, his step playful and me twisting in his arms. He’d learned all the words since that first time, singing it rather well and not sparing his vocal cords in the least.

  I loved watching him so crazy and relaxed, enjoying life to the maximum. He made me see life as a straight line with no obstacles on it and all the wishes possible. It was not a bad way to experience life, at least not until that moment when reality comes crashing down.

  With the ending of the song, I found myself pressed against the hard wall again and Jonathan attached to my neck.

  “We are not doing this again,” I berated him. “You did the same thing last weekend! Then we ended up staying inside the whole time. I want to go out!”

  “Aww…don’t be like that, sweetheart. What’s wrong in wanting you?” he mumbled into my neck, never lifting his lips from the sensitive skin there.

  “We’ve had sex twice today and will probably fuck again when we come back tonight. I want to at least take a walk now and then during the night. Please.”

  I loved having him in me, taking me both fast and slow, telling me about all the things he liked about me, teasing me with touches as well as words, but I also needed my time outside, especially during the summer.

  He exhaled sharply before putting my feet back on the ground. “Fine, but I’m tying you up when we come back.” His finger was pointing at my face, and I made a motion of biting it, making both of us laugh again.

  Walking sober during the night, without civilization interrupting and the waves softly caressing the shore, had a certain charm. The fresh air and the smell of pine made the experience even more special.

  Jonathan held my hand, swinging it gently between us as we advanced one step at a time. We were headed to the bar again. I wanted to watch his ass now that I was allowed to be obvious about it, and I wanted to hang out in casual company. I loved my Bee, but being with him 24/7 made me wish for some breathing space in the form of other company once in a while.

  I kept that to myself, though, not wanting to spoil anything between us, but I had enough experience in relationships to know that one needed some quality time for himself. In my case, I compromised by going out.

  The bar was full as usual, and somehow we managed to squeeze onto two bar stools. The music was blasting, the two waiters cruising hurriedly between the tables. The pool table was booked for the next couple of hours, so we decided on darts, where the wait shouldn’t be more than one.

  Jonathan ordered another beer while I settled for a rum and Coke. Just by sitting there, I caught partial conversations as people stopped by the bar to order drinks. There was a wedding tomorrow, and the groom was having his bachelor party—or at least half of it—in the bar. That explained the group of guys in the corner, drinking excessively and being pretty loud.

  “I think that guy in a red shirt is getting married tomorrow,” I yelled next to Jonathan’s ear to be heard over the music.

  “How do you know?” he yelled back, putting his palm at the small of my back automatically.

  “I listened to the people around me. We should hang out with the locals more.”

  “Probably, but I prefer to spend my time with you.”

  “Do you have any friends back home besides Jerry?” I only knew about Jerry because the boss used to call him regularly the first couple of weeks.

  “No. I’ve never had time for friends. You are my friend, and I think that was more because you befriended me than because I had any special skills in that department. I have no idea how to get to know people.” He sipped at his beer, looking everywhere but at me.

  It’d been a while since I glimpsed the old Jonathan in him, and it pained me that I had recalled those bad memories to the surface this time. Still, some questions bugged me, and being out, drinking, somehow gave me the courage I otherwise lacked to ask them.

  “How about children or a wife; didn’t you want to have a family?” It was like self-inflicting injury; I had to probe into things that could in every way be bad for me.

  “Sure. I planned on having a wife, maybe a couple of kids to continue my business, but that’s in the past now.” He still wasn’t looking at me.

  “You mean because of me?” I asked, leaning forward in the hopes of catching a glimpse of his expression.

  “Yeah, sure,” he answered shortly, as if that would prevent me from seeing his answer as the lie that it was.

  I was just about to press the subject when cheers sounded from the party table. One of the guys was climbing on top
of the small round table, his fingers gripping the edge firmly and his knees on the top of it. He was trying to find the balance to stand on it when the groom came behind him and took hold of his hips, pushing his groin into the guy’s displayed ass.

  The “victim” tried elbowing the persistent future husband-to-be, but the guy wasn’t budging. He kept going, causing shouts to spread around their table.

  I couldn’t help but laugh, despite all my pressing concerns, and I could see a smile on Jonathan’s face too. I was trying to find a good question to come back to the subject at hand, but before I could, someone barged into the bar and started yelling, “Fire!”

  The music stopped, and everybody rushed outside, the two of us among the crowd. The sight was one out of a disaster movie. The pines on the other side of the bay had caught fire, lighting up the dark.

  People were whispering around, saying how the fire department was too far away, and how the fire was spreading too fast toward the houses. Soon it was very clear who belonged among the tourists and who were the locals. The locals rushed over the connecting bridge and began helping with the buckets and watering the roofs of the houses closest to the fire.

  I couldn’t do anything but stare in terror. Fire was something that had always scared me immensely; it was completely uncontrollable. Even small sparks were enough to cause disasters of catastrophic proportions.

  I didn’t even realize I was trembling until Jonathan wrapped his arms firmly around me, holding me in place. But my calm lasted only a couple of seconds.

  “I’m going to go over there and offer help. I can at least pass on the buckets with water,” he whispered at my ear.

  “No, no, you can’t go! It’s a fire. You can’t go near a fire!” I was momentarily hysterical, and he was forced to turn me around so that I couldn’t see the flames.

  “I won’t go near the fire. I’ll stand in the back and fill the buckets with water. Now calm down and stay here. I will be back as soon as the firefighters arrive.”